Oh Snowy Night Read online

  Oh Snowy Night

  Ella Goode

  Contents

  Summary

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Epilogue

  Epilogue

  Also by Ella Goode

  Connect with me!

  Summary

  Oh! Snowy night the stars are brightly shining

  It is the night of the lumberjack’s big fall

  Long lay his heart in eternal slumber

  Till she appeared and his soul felt enthralled

  A thrill of hope the romance world rejoices

  For yonder breaks a new and glorious tale

  Swipe open your Kindles

  And read the latest story

  Of the slight surly Conn

  And of Faith who brought new hope

  Chapter One

  Conn

  “They say there’s gonna be about a foot of snow dropping on us. You might want to get some bread. We’re running low.”

  “Henry, Conn makes his own bread.” Henry’s wife nudges the old man aside to grab my milk. She waves it in my face. “Conn, you want this in a bag?”

  “I’ll carry it.”

  “It looks like you’ve got the fixin’s for a good stew. I don’t see any meat here, though. You going to use venison? Heard you caught a nice buck the other day. A ten-pointer?”

  “There ain’t no ten-pointers around here,” mutters Henry. He’s sitting down on a stool behind the register with a piece of jerky stuck in the side of his mouth.

  “Just because you don’t have any luck doesn’t mean that Conn hasn’t. You tell him, Conn.” Old Karen peers up through her round framed eyeglasses.

  Behind Karen’s back, Henry gives me a sharp warning glance. This is the reason why I don’t come into town much. It’s too easy to step in shit even if you’re watching where you’re going. I ruffle the shorn hair on top of my head and search for an answer that makes them both happy. “Can’t say that I’ve seen any bucks that size around.”

  Henry hoots. “I told you so.”

  “That doesn’t mean none exist,” I add hurriedly.

  “That’s right.” Karen thumps the bag of flour with a little too much force. I wince. “Just because you don’t see them, doesn’t mean they aren’t out there.”

  “If they did exist, I’d have seen ‘em and since I haven’t and neither has Conn, who lives in the freaking woods, they don’t. That’s--what do you call it?”

  “It’s not anything,” Karen insists and jams a candy cane toward me. “Here. Put this on one of your pines. I know you aren’t decorating a Christmas tree.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I slide my card into the reader.

  “Leave the boy alone. If he don’t want to celebrate Christmas, he shouldn’t have to.”

  “It’s because he’s not married,” Karen replies, ripping off the receipt. “You should get married, Conn. Your wife can put up a tree. You’ll like this time more with decorations. They always cheer me up.”

  “I don’t like ‘em. You’ve got too much damned stuff, Karen. We don’t need indoor and outdoor shit.”

  I grab my two sacks, heft a bag of dog food onto my shoulder and run out of there like my tail’s on fire. Bear greets me with a rough bark when I step out of the store. I jerk my head. “Let’s go.”

  The husky lumbers to his feet and races to the truck. I toss the food in the back and then open the front door for him to climb in. “Remind me when I get low again so I don’t have to come into town,” I tell my boy. His tongue hangs out and he nods excitedly. I give him a rough scratch around his ears before climbing into the driver’s seat.

  When I moved here to Pine Hollow five years ago, I thought I’d enjoy the small town atmosphere, but just a little exposure made me realize that small town people were missing as many acorns on the tree as the big city people. All I need in life is a computer, a mailbox, my dog, and a stove. Contact with other people is unnecessary.

  The wind starts to pick up as I drive toward my lodge located thirty minutes north of Pine Hollow. There isn’t anything up by me but a few cabins that stand empty during the winter and three hundred acres of trees and trails. I cut some of those trails myself and some nature provided.

  It’s a sanctuary and one I don’t want disturbed, so when I come across another car moving slowly on the road, I scowl and pass it. The roads up here should be empty. Snow starts to fall and daylight is slowly fading away. I press the gas pedal. It’s nice to be home while the sun’s setting over the lake.

  I’m going to throw a couple of brats on the grill and pop open a beer. Later, I’ll do some work but the good thing about being self-employed is you do shit when you want and right now, I want to relax on the sun porch with Bear at my side while the sun takes a dip in the water.

  “How’s that sound?” I ask my boy.

  He barks in agreement. Dogs really are a man’s best friend. You don’t have to say a word, but they’re on your side. A true ride or die. I give Bear another scratch as I make a left turn down my road. The sight that greets me makes me scowl.

  “Scoot back, Bear,” I order. He does so immediately. I reach over and grab the handgun out of my glove compartment. The chain that hangs about four feet off the ground across my road is lying on the pea gravel. There are tire tracks that don’t match my truck pressed into the sand and rock. I set the gun in my lap and drive across the chain. The road to my house is swervy. I made it that way so it wouldn’t be easy to get to my place. I’d see people coming and have time to prepare but it also means people ahead of me can hide and prepare an ambush. I keep a finger on the trigger of my gun as I roll down the road.

  No one appears around the first bend or the second. It’s not until the roofline of my lodge breaks through the trees that I spot the intruder--or the intruder’s car. It’s a late model Honda--gray and so plain it looks like it could’ve been dragged off a military lot. I rifle through my mental rolodex and try to match up any of my former comrades with this car but come up blank.

  “Stay,” I tell Bear. He nods and watches me silently as I pull the truck to a stop and slide out of it. The gray car is idling, exhaust from the engine spiraling into the air. Except for a small figure in the driver’s seat, the car appears to be empty. Appearances can be deceiving. I slide off the safety and sidle up to the car. No one shoots at me. No windows are rolled down. The person in the vehicle doesn’t appear to be moving.

  I slam my hand against the glass once. The figure jolts upright, long hair flying as the driver turns to face me. Wide, brilliant blue eyes meet my dark brown ones.

  “Fuck.”

  Chapter Two

  Faith

  “It’s a lumberjack,” I whisper to Smittens, who is curled up in a ball in her bed in the backseat of my car. I don’t know why she loves car rides so much. All she does is sleep the whole time but if I leave without her she’ll meow until I get back. I’ve already been kicked out of one apartment over it. “He looks angry.”

  “What are you doing?” The man asks as he removes his hand from my window. I’m shocked it didn't shatter with how hard he hit it. He’s lucky that I didn’t pee myself with the way he startled me. My bladder was already about to burst; it didn’t need any help.

  “I need to pee.” I swing the door open. He jumps back before it can hit him. “Sorry.” I hop out, unprepared for the slick ground. My boots, which are cute and furry, are made more for l
ooking adorable and not so much for actual snow. They have absolutely no traction. I realize this a little too late as I start to fall. Two giant arms catch me before I can face plant.

  “Fuck,” he barks again.

  “You have a terrible mouth.” My eyes actually flick to his mouth that is surrounded by a nice trim beard. His mouth is rather nice really. Kissable? Do you call a lumberjack’s mouth kissable?

  “What the hell is that?” I turn my head to see Smittens jumping from the car.

  “Smittens!” I call after her as she takes off for the front porch of the cute cabin I’ve been sitting in front of for the last twenty minutes. Mr. Lumberjack rights me on my feet as a wolf-like dog goes running past both of us towards Smittens.

  “Oh my God! Get your dog. She’ll kill him!” I shout, breaking free of the man’s hold to try and save the dog. Smittens may be a tiny thing but she can be mean when she wants to be.

  “Bear!” The man hollers after his dog. Smittens whips around, giving the dog a death glare as her back goes up. The dog stops and falls over onto his side. I stand there in shock. Holy crap!

  “Did she kill him?” I whisper. I see the dog’s tail wagging and I let out a sigh of relief. It’s short lived. “Pee. I’ve got to pee.” I turn to the man, grabbing his coat so he’ll look down at me and see how serious I am. “I’m scared to do it out here. Something could bite me or my pee could freeze. Is that even a thing?” He looks at me like I’m speaking another language. “Open the door!” I shout the last part. I am going to use his bathroom whether he likes it or not. “Now.” I boss him even though he’s a heck of a lot bigger than me.

  He grabs my elbow, leading me toward the house and up the stairs. I’m not sure if he’s manhandling me or making sure I don’t have another slip. He looks so serious. He’s probably afraid that I’ll bust my booty and try to sue him or something. Either way, he opens the door and that’s all that matters. Smittens goes running into the house as if she owns the damn place. I’m not shocked one bit at her behavior. The gigantic dog hops up, following her in.

  “It wasn't locked?” I could have peed a long time ago. Hadn’t even thought to check the door. Who doesn't lock their door? Wait. I’m the one going into a man’s house that I don’t know in the middle of nowhere. I should possibly hold back any judgment.

  “Bathroom.” He guides me inside without answering my question. He points to a door. I dart toward it before my bladder explodes. It’s a fight to get all of my winter stuff off quick enough and my pants down. I let out a moan as I finally get relief.

  “What the fuck is going on?” I hear the man say in the other room.

  “I’m peeing.” I shout my answer so he can hear me through the door. He mumbles something I can’t hear.

  “What?” I stand, washing my hands. He doesn't respond to me. I look into the mirror. Whoa. I look a hot mess. I try and flatten my hair, remembering that a hot lumberjack is outside the door. I close my eyes thinking about the last three minutes of my life. My hair isn’t the only thing that is a hot mess. I also fall into that category. This guy probably thinks that I’m crazy.

  I do the best that I can to tidy up my appearance. This is as good as it’s going to get. I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. Wait. I reach inside my sweater, flipping on the lights to make it light up. It’s navy blue but has white snowflakes that light up. That makes me feel a little better. It might distract from my hair. I lean down, picking up my gloves, coat and scarf before opening the bathroom door and poking my head out.

  My eyes go straight to Smittens, who has made a bed out of the dog. She’s actually lying right on top of him. Mr. Lumberjack towers over them as he stares down at them on his sofa. They look as though they’ve done this exact thing hundreds of times.

  “Sorry about that.” I motion toward the bathroom. His head shoots up, his eyes locking with mine. My heartbeat picks up a notch. He really is handsome in a rough kind of way. I lick my lips as I take all of him in. “About all the pee talk.” There I go again. I can’t stop talking about it! What is wrong with me? I need to change the subject.

  “Where’s your tree?” I ask, looking around his cabin. It’s rustic but has a modern feel to it. There isn't one holiday decoration, though.

  “Your sweater is lighting up.” His eyebrows furrow together to form what looks a lot like a frown. What kind of person would frown at this adorable sweater?

  “Cute, right? I have more. They’re in the car.” I point to my car, looking out the front window. The snow is coming down like crazy now. That grumpy look doesn’t change with the news of my additional sweaters. This guy is a tough nut to crack. “It’s really coming down now,” I hint, hoping that he doesn’t make me go back out there. He doesn’t bite right away as he continues to stare at me. He looks as though he doesn’t know what to do with me.

  “You can’t drive that kind of car in this. It’s not even legal.” Oh thank God, I thought he’d never offer for me to stay.

  “Guess I’ll stay the night.” I joke but he doesn’t laugh. “It’s not my fault you don’t have numbers on the end of your driveway! It wasn’t until I was at the house did I see it was the wrong place.” I huff because he’s being a big jerk. I mean, I’d gone the extra mile to be friendly and I even turned the damn sweater lights on. The least he can do is try to be a little nice. Would it kill him to smile?

  “So you took the chain off and drove up the driveway?” He folds his arms over his chest, making him look bigger than he already is.

  “My phone died. It said two more miles and I thought it was about right.”

  “Your phone died,” he repeats.

  “Well, I brought a car charger but it wasn’t working or something.” I don't want to admit that I got one for a different kind of phone. I didn’t realize until I went to use it and it was way too late.

  He runs a hand down his face. “Where were you trying to go?”

  I ramble off the address.

  “You’re a town over.” He shakes his head. “You one of King’s women?” His eyes roam over me. His brows furrow together like he doesn't believe it. I don’t know what one of King’s women looks like but I guess I don’t make the cut according to Mr. Lumberjack, whose name I still don’t know.

  “I’m meeting a Mr. King.” At least I was supposed to be. I am renting out a small cabin for the month. I needed to get away. I thought a month of exclusion would be good for me. I left behind my horrible ex and equally horrible stepsister, Trish, who was banging my now ex. Who knows how long that had been going on? No wonder he never tried to get in my pants. Why not just date her to begin with? None of it made sense to me. And they think I’m the odd one.

  I won’t be going to any family festivities this year. They can all suck it. Their holidays are going to be lame without me there to make the day shine with all of my holiday cheer. Christmas is my holiday. I do all the work. I make sure to bring everyone together. I know it’s because I feel like the odd one out. My dad married a woman who had two daughters and a son. My mom is out of the picture. She’s been that way my entire life. I think my dad was trying to make us a family but really I kind of got lost in the shuffle even though I worked hard at trying to make myself fit in.

  I look forward to Christmas every year and I can’t help but think that my stepsister made sure she had this whole big explosion with her sleeping with my boyfriend happen over Thanksgiving on purpose. I just got up and walked out. Worse, my own father didn't chase after me. No one did. All I heard was yelling and screaming over a boyfriend that super sucked anyway. I only went out with him because Trish begged me to do it.

  “Not in this weather you’re not.” He drops his arms that are folded across his chest. “Your cat is already asleep and the sun is setting.”

  “She’s always asleep.” I bat my hand her way. She doesn't normally sleep on dogs though. She likes to sit in her hammock at my apartment and hiss at them as they pass on the street below. Now she has made a bed of one. “Besides.
You don’t look too excited for me to stay the night. You didn't even laugh at my joke about staying here for the night,” I say, even though I wasn’t really joking. I fold my arms over my chest, pretending that I’m offended.

  “’Cause it wasn't a joke.” With that, he heads out the front door, leaving me standing there. I follow him out but stop when I get to the door, realizing I don’t have any of my winter gear on and it’s freezing. I watch as he starts pulling things from my car and bringing them inside.

  “What are you doing? I don’t need all of this for one night.”

  “Better to have it in here. Your doors might freeze shut,” he tells me before he’s out the door again. I watch as he brings everything in. It takes almost five trips.

  “How did you get so much shit in that little car?”

  “It’s not shit.” I defend my things. He gives me a look like he doesn't believe me. I try and glare at him but it does nothing. I knew it wouldn't because my glaring skills are lacking. I should take a lesson from him.

  “You’re really playing out this grumpy lumberjack thing.”

  “I’m not a lumberjack.”

  “You don’t chop wood?” My eyes dart over to the fireplace that has wood loaded up next to it.

  “Doesn't make me a lumberjack.”

  “Can we make a fire?” I step toward the beautiful fireplace that’s surrounded by stone. I wonder if it’s original to the home.

  “Can you stay on topic?”

  “Clearly, I’m staying. I mean you don’t have to beg me. You’ve already brought all my stuff in.” I turn. He glares at my sweater. He keeps looking at it. “It’s cute.”